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„Hi!”
Soft voice and a fit of giggles. I’m pretty sure he’s drunk senseless.
„Must have been hell of a party?”
I love him drunk. There is nothing cuter. I think our dinners at Luca’s were the main reason why everybody was so in love with Timmy during the shoot. He would always drink too much wine and turn into a lost puppy, cuddling to whoever was nearest. We all wanted be the one taking care of him and I would have to fight for that privilege but I always won. He would hang on me with almost all his weight and laugh incoherently or he would fall asleep on my shoulder, drooling adorably. But my favourite drunk Tim would be the dancing one. Because after too much alcohol he loses all his dancing prowess while his confidence rises. And that combination brings the most unforgettable sight.
I smile at the thought as I hear some muffled sounds.
„Where are you?”
„You’re gonna be so mad at me, Armie.” he slurs a little, extending every vowel.
I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t, so I chuckle to myself. All I think about is how I wish I could put him to bed like I always did when he got drunk. How I wish I was always there to take care of him.
„Oh? Why would I be mad, T.?”
He shuffles around, I can’t imagine what he’s doing exactly but I start to worry a little.
„I.. Um.. Call me babe first and then I’ll tell you.”
The giggling resumes and I can’t help but join in.
„What did you do, babe?”
I don't want to guess. There are some unwanted visuals that suddenly cross my mind but I squash these thoughts before they become words.
„Aw, you called me babe!” he laughs like a maniac.
„Tim, stop fucking around! What did you do?” I try to be stern but I can’t keep myself from smiling, his laughter is infectious.
„Not that! I mean, I didn’t fuck around. I… No, I didn’t.”
I don’t know why but I stop breathing for a second, I feel a sting in the centre of my chest prominent enough to make it impossible for me to ignore it. Something in his voice isn’t quite right, but I take a deep breath and try to move past it.
„Good.” I say but I probably don’t sound as light-hearted as before.
„So…” he starts and I can’t believe how he can lisp and mumble such a short word.
„I got drunk.”
„Uh huh?”
„Like really drunk.”
„Yes?” I start to laugh but it’s nervous rather than joyous. I wonder if he hears that.
„And it was so chaotic, you know. So many people. Crowded.”
It sounds like he’s falling asleep while speaking, dragging every word.
„There was some weed.”
Figured.
„And things got hectic, I was dancing."
"I can imagine!" I can see him flailing around with a smug look on his dazed face.
"But I lost Abel and I was looking for him and when I found him I realised I lost the cap.”
„Wait, what? Abel? Abel is in London?”
I refuse to be jealous, but I have to admit to myself that I am and it’s painful.
„No.. I’m in Cannes.” he shouts as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
My heart sinks. He’s in Cannes. With Abel. Getting drunk. Doing the things he is supposed to be doing. It should make me happy but it fucks me up and I can’t even comprehend it yet. I scold myself silently, feeling ashamed of myself.
„Oh.” is all I manage.
„That’s not the point, Armie.”
The way he pronounces my name makes me weak all over again, but I wait for the other shoe to drop.
„I lost the cap.” he cries out.
I don’t understand.
„I lost the Brentwood cap!” he wails and I finally get it. I don’t even know why he got so attached to that stupid baseball cap that I bought for him on a whim, when we were grocery shopping on his day off from the Beautiful Boy shoot.
I sigh with relief. Turns out he’s still just a cute drunk puppy. All my imaginary worries are gone just like that.
„Don’t fret, babe, I’m gonna buy you a new one.”
„You called me babe again.” he giggles sleepily.
„I did.” I smile.
„I love you.” he mumbles and I almost feel I am there with him, holding him in my arms, lulling him to sleep.
„I love you too. Call me tomorrow, yes?”
„Mhm.”
„So, how was your weekend in London?”
I can see clearly there is a dangerous spark in her eyes, a malice waiting to spring at me once I put my guard down.
„Fine. It was almost a week ago.”
I miss him more than ever before, but I can’t tell her that. I can’t say anything about that weekend that wouldn’t hurt her, so it’s all I say.
She must see the sadness that creeps up on my face, because her eyes turn softer as her intentions change. She pats me on my shoulder and sounds like she’s trying to console me:
„Maybe that’s a good thing. These kind of rumours might actually be helpful. You can keep your relationship under wraps easier that way.”
„Wait, what?” I don’t understand what she’s saying.
I need to stand up, create a distance between us, because I’m suddenly nervous.
I look at her face and see her inner turmoil before she visibly decides on something and speaks again.
„Nothing. I just think that even after we divorce you should maybe keep this relationship private for a while. For his sake mostly but yours too.”
There is kindness in her voice and I appreciate it.
„Yeah, you’re probably right.”
She looks at me and I can’t help but see something in her eyes that unnerves me.
„Are we okay?” I don’t know why this new soft Elizabeth makes me so uneasy. Do I really prefer her angry? Maybe it means she doesn’t love me anymore. Which is a good thing. But in the back of my mind I know that for some reason it’s hard for me to accept it.
„As okay as we can be, I guess.” she answers apprehensively, as I walk towards her to hold her hand. She takes it and there is that look again and I recognise it now. It's pity.
„What is this?” I point at her face and hope she knows what I’m asking.
„Nothing, Armie.”
I just wait.
„It’s just that he’s so young…” she starts, hesitant, weighing her words. „Are you sure you both want the same thing?”
I'm surprised by the way she behaves today. Maybe she has found someone? It would make me happy. I start to believe we can make this work. Create a new sort of family, all of us, together.
„Thank you, Elizabeth. For worrying about me. I mean it. You’re too good to be true.” I hug her sincerely. I don't know why I dodge answering that question.
She succumbs into my arms and whispers:
„I really hope you will always remember that.”
After that she walks away, leaving the kids with me as planned.
Harper plays with my phone, when she starts jumping on the sofa, squeaking excitedly.
„It’s uncle Timmy!” she exclaims.
I have so many photos of Tim on my phone it's hardly a surprise that she found one.
„I love uncle Timmy. He’s nice and pretty!” she says and I smile with my whole heart.
„Yes, he is.”
„Mommy says he has a girlfriend!” she continues, sounding a little disappointed, her lips turn into an adorable pout.
I chuckle and kiss her forehead.
„You don’t want him to have a girlfriend?”
„No!" she says firmly and I couldn't agree with her more.
"But mommy was talking to uncle Niki and said uncle Timmy was kissing his girlfriend.”
I swallow loudly and try to stay calm.
„What did she say exactly?”
„She said he was at a party and he was kissing his girlfriend. I said I don’t like it and uncle Niki said he doesn’t like it either!”
„I guess we all don’t like it.” I say under my breath.
I go to my laptop and find the article pretty easily. It’s just gossip and there are no pictures but now all I think about is Elizabeth’s genuine concern and Tim’s multiple denial about „fucking around”.
_______
I wake up with a hangover of a century. I check my phone, it’s already past noon. There is a text from Armie and I squint to read it, but I’m not sure I understand it.
Armie: I really hope you know I’m serious about this. About us. Are you?